Case Undone
by totallynutso
Summary: When the BAU wraps up a case, it leads to unexpected dire consequences for two of their own. Team fic


"Reid?" Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner said softly. He didn't want to startle him, the young man already seemed traumatised enough.

Swallowing hard, Supervisory Special Agent Spencer Reid used a shaky hand to move bloody matted hair from his eyes, grimacing as a chunk of flesh caught between his fingers.

"Hotch?" he gasped, the events of the last few minutes suddenly imploding as his body shook. He turned and vomited.

The unsub, or unknown subject, had been cornered by the two FBI Special Agents, and with no means of escape, and apparently no desire to 'come quietly', the deranged multi-murderer stuffed a live grenade into his mouth.

The blast threw both Agent Hotchner and Agent Reid feet apart, blood and brain matter showering the younger agent.

The Unit Chief quickly recovered and surveyed the mess. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realised his teammate was unhurt, but the shock was evident in his eyes...

"You alright?" Aaron asked, his hand gently offering support to the stricken man.

"Yeah," Spencer nodded. "J-just gimme a second here."

"Okay." Aaron gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then stood, leaving Spencer to compose himself. He flipped open his 'phone.

"Morgan... Yeah, we're both fine... Carl Potter was the unsub... He's dead... No... Okay, we'll be here," he finished and pocketed the mobile.

"H-how did we miss this?" Spencer asked, his distraught voice loud in the silence of the barn they were in. Their profile didn't fit Carl Potter. The teams working profile and collated evidence had them looking for a white male, aged between 30 and 45, who worked in the construction industry. Carl Potter was a nineteen year old art student.

His victims, all eight of them, had been tortured, assaulted, garrotted _and then_ raped, before trophies – in each case the left ear, with an earring still attached – had been taken, before being dumped naked in and around the small town.

"Even behavioural analysis isn't an exact science, Spencer. Sometimes we get it wrong," Aaron said quietly. He looked at the body of Carl Potter and grimaced at the macabre sight of a string of the victims' ears around the remains of his neck.

With the rest of his team en route to check out a lead at a local construction site, Agents Hotchner and Reid had been approaching Potter's house to talk to him about his association with one of the victims – a girl from his art class, when Spencer caught sight of the young student struggling to drag a hefty black sack into the barn at the rear of his property. Aaron had seen the wet trail of blood from the bag and immediately both he and Spencer advanced with their guns drawn.

It all happened so fast. The FBI men identified themselves, and then Potter grabbed the grenade...

"Yes, I know that, but... He was just a kid, Hotch," Spencer said shaking his head.

Aaron nodded. A kid. The BAU Unit Chief looked around the blood splattered barn and narrowed his eyes in anger. Shoes and articles of clothing lay haphazardly about; items that had been missing from the victims. Carl Potter was a kid who'd taken sexual pleasure in torturing and murdering eight women.

"Come on, leave this to the CSU now," Aaron said helping Spencer to his feet. The young man shuddered involuntarily. "Are you going to be alright?"

Spencer nodded numbly and allowed the older agent to lead him out of the barn, and eventually back to Quantico.

Later that evening back at the BAU, Penelope Garcia, the technical analyst, told them that Carl Potter had been abused as a child, by both his mother and a string of step fathers. Further investigation revealed that Andrea Potter, Carl's mother, had once been employed at a tattoo studio specialising in body and ear piercings, which could be an explanation to Carl's choice of trophies. But they would never know for sure.

And Carl Potter's last known step father happened to be a construction worker.

Garcia couldn't find any current address's of his parents or any 'proof of life' activity such as credit card use or banking for the last 4 months, and they suspected foul play at the hands of Carl Potter. That part of the case was still open.

The BAU's current case, however, was now closed and the team, emotionally and physically exhausted, decided to call it a night.

"You're sure you're okay, kid?" Morgan asked Spencer for the third time. The image of his friend covered in blood and brain matter would haunt him for a long time yet.

"Yes, I'm fine, Morgan," Spencer smiled tiredly. "Just need to go home and _sleep_!"

Aaron watched his youngest team member try to smile convincingly and fail. He knew the young man was plagued by nightmares – an occupational hazard of the job; they all suffered them.

Morgan glanced at his Unit Chief and frowned. Ever since he was kidnapped and tortured by Tobias Hankel, Spencer had turned to the older agent for support after Aaron had helped him through his Dilaudid addiction and some of the worst nightmares he'd ever had. Aaron nodded and stepped forward.

"Reid, I could use some company tonight," Aaron said quietly. It wasn't a lie, either.

Spencer blinked and smiled to himself. He knew what the man was doing and appreciated it. "Yeah, okay. Thanks."

They were the last to leave the BAU and the parking lot was virtually deserted. They buckled into Aaron's black SUV and slowly drove home.

The city was quiet and Spencer let his mind wander as he watched the brightly lit streets passing by his window. Carl was only a few years younger than he was, and he was dead. What a waste of life. He thought about scenarios where he could talk Carl into giving him the grenade, where he could save him... But ultimately, he would fail. Carl was dead... just a kid...

"Chinese?" Aaron's voice cut into his thoughts and Spencer jumped.

"What?"

"Are you hungry?" the older man asked. "Chinese?"

Spencer smiled and huffed out a chuckle. "Only if I don't have to use chopsticks."

Turning a corner onto a quieter road lit only by the light of the moon, Aaron laughed and shook his head. "Okay, Chinese it is."

"Did you know that Chopsticks should not be left standing vertically in a bowl of rice or other food? Any stick-like object pointed upward resembles the incense sticks that some Asians use as offerings to deceased family members; certain funerary rites designate offerings of food to the dead using standing chopsticks," Spencer said.

"Um, I did know that, yes," Aaron answered, surprising the young agent.

"Really? That's-"

Anything else Spencer Reid had to say was drowned out by the sudden impact of a truck to the side of the SUV.

~ {} ~

Ringing and pounding assaulted Aaron Hotchner's head as he came to. He pried open his eyes to see white and it was a few seconds before he realised that the SUV's collision airbag was against his face. He pushed it out of the way and it deflated with a hiss.

Light from the head lamps bounced off the trees outside and he could just make out the damage to the car. Jesus. It was wrecked. His head hurt like hell and he felt dizzy and sick – concussion, definitely. Aaron tried to catalogue his other injuries as he slowly moved his body. Oh yeah, definitely bruised, if not busted ribs. He could feel wet warmth down his shins, so there were most likely contusions and lacerations there too. He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw blood streaking down his face from a small cut above his left eye. Feeling around his scalp, he found a sizable lump; the probable reason for the jack-hammer inside his head. Aaron sighed and tried to unscramble his mind. Where was he? What was he do-?

"Spencer!"

The passenger side of the SUV was crushed; the seat at right angles with the drivers and Aaron couldn't see his young friend.

"Spencer," he called again, carefully moving his battered body over the mangled seats, and all the breath left his lungs in a gasp when he saw the young man.

His light weight frame bent impossibly around the impacted vehicle side. His left leg looked like it was maybe broken or at least dislocated, that much Aaron could see, and his head and face were covered with blood. Aaron thought Spencer was dead.

"Spencer?" he croaked over the lump in his throat, his fingers trying to find a pulse in the slick blood at Spencer's neck. "Oh god!"

There was a pulse! He was alive.

Frantically he grabbed for his cell phone and cried out in dismay when the device broke in two in his hands.

Carefully climbing out of the car, Aaron wrapped an arm around his bruised ribs made it around to the passenger side. He saw the truck and the driver and stared into his lifeless eyes for a second before trying to pry open the passenger door of the SUV. The door fell off with a thud and Aaron saw the full extent of Spencer's injuries.

Blood had pooled under Spencer's body and Aaron gingerly probed his fingers under the young man's coat. They came away slick and sticky.

"Oh god," Aaron voiced when he saw the metal bar sticking out of Spencer's side. A part of the damaged seat had speared him. He blinked and swallowed, refocusing himself. He had to get help.

But Spencer's cell phone was also damaged – crushed and in pieces.

Aaron eyed the truck again, and as fast as his injuries would let him, he hobbled over to the driver's door. Upon opening it, the strong smell of liquor hit Aaron full force and he gagged as he fumbled around the dead man's clothing, looking for a 'phone.

Cell reception was good, battery was good, and Aaron sagged in relief when his call was answered.

"_Quantico 911, what is your emergency?"_

"I need an ambulance, I was hit," Aaron answered quickly, adrenalin suddenly rushing through him.

"_Is it a car accident, sir?"_

"Yes, but my friend... I need an ambulance." He looked over at Spencer.

"_Okay, are you hurt, sir? What's your name?"_

"Me? I'm fine, it's my friend, he's hurt badly and needs an ambulance," he repeated, his vision blurring for a second. He swallowed hard.

"_Sir, what's your name? Can you tell me where you are?"_

"Oh, right, SSA Aaron Hotchner... Um, where we are?" Aaron squinted around and tried to remember where they were. He knew the answer, it just wasn't coming. "Um, I-I don't know... We were driving home f-from, um..."

"_Take your time, sir. Can you see any road signs?"_

Aaron closed his eyes and frowned. He thought hard... "I think we're on F-Fuller um... near Purvis."

"_Okay, we have your location. An ambulance is on its way sir; stay on the line with me."_

"Okay," Aaron breathed, his mind going fuzzy, adrenalin now waning fast. He swayed dangerously and grabbed at the truck door to stop himself taking a header into the dirt.

"_Sir? Stay on the line!"_

The dispatcher's tinny voice drifted from the cell phone in his hand. "Please hurry," he murmured into the mouth piece and switched it off, not even hearing the dispatchers' shouts.

Aaron Drew in a painful shaky breath and made his way back over to Spencer. He carefully knelt down, grimacing as the cuts on his shins stung and complained, and leaned in close to the young man, who was still unconscious.

"Spencer?" he said quietly brushing the bloody tangled brown hair from the young man's face. "Spencer, can you hear me?"

Spencer's brow furrowed slightly. Aaron cupped the man's cheek with his palm. "Spencer, help is on the way," he told him as he clumsily punched in the Dave Rossi's number on the cell phone.

"_Supervisory Special Agent Dave Ro-,"_ came Rossi's no nonsense reply.

"It's Hotch," Aaron interrupted

"_Hotch? Are you okay?" _

"Yeah, I'm alright, but... Dave, there's been an accident." He leaned his forehead against the cool metal of the car, silently willing the nausea and dizziness to abate.

"_An accident? Are you hurt? Where are you?"_ Silence_. "Hotch! Whose number is this?"_

"The dead guy's phone... It's Reid, h-he's hurt," Aaron said quietly. "It's bad, Dave."

"_Where are you? Did you call an ambulance?"_ Rossi's voice radiated concern and Aaron frowned in confusion.

"Yes, the ambulance is on the way but... I need a lift home. I have to pick up the Chinese."

"_Hotch, stay with me here. Where are you?"_

"I'm here, I'm alright," came Aaron's soft answer.

" _I'm coming to get you, where are you?"_

"Um, Fuller at Purvis I think... Yeah." And before Rossi could say anything else, Aaron shut off the phone and let it drop from his fingers.

"Its okay, Spencer, help is coming," Aaron murmured painfully. His head was spinning and he was having difficulty drawing in a decent breath.

~{}~

Supervisory Special Agent Dave Rossi blinked at his cell phone as it disconnected. He cursed and dialled SSA Derek Morgan.

"Morgan," he said quickly. "Its Hotch and Reid, they've been in an accident on Fuller... Yeah, they're alive, but Hotch sounded out of it and he said Reid's in a bad way... Okay, meet you there. Get Garcia to find out what hospital."

Grabbing his keys, Rossi ran from his house and sped down his street. Fuller Road wasn't that far away.

The flashing lights of the emergency services greeted him though as he arrived at the scene.

~{}~

Spencer swam back to consciousness on a wave of pain. His left side was agony and even before he could open his eyes, a low groan escaped his throat. He felt cool fingers twitch on his face.

"Spencer?"

He knew that voice.

"Spencer, c'mon kid, come back to me," Aaron said through gritted teeth.

"H-Hotch?" God, was that his voice? "W-what ha..." A sudden sharp pain winded him as he tried to move.

"No, don't move, Spencer, don't move." Aaron's voice washed over him and he moaned in response. "Help's on its way."

"C-cold," the young agent whispered. He couldn't feel his legs, but his body was freezing. He felt Aaron's hand rub his shoulder gently and shivered.

"I know. You're hurt, but help is on its way. Listen," Aaron repeated. "They're coming."

Spencer opened his eyes at the distant sounds of sirens. He looked in the direction Aaron's voice and squinted as his face blurred dizzily in and out of focus.

"Y-you okay?" he asked around a sudden mouthful of blood and saliva.

"Yeah," Aaron said as he wiped Spencer's chin. "A little banged up."

"Wha' happ... Happened?"

"We were hit by a truck."

The sirens got louder as the emergency vehicles came closer and Spencer winced as his head thumped in pain. "The- the driver o-okay?"

A sudden movement towards the lights jarred his ribs and Aaron's vision momentarily faulted. "No," he gasped.

"Aaron?" The painful movement wasn't missed by Spencer.

"'m alright," Aaron murmured. He smiled tiredly at the young man.

Spencer's eye's slid shut and Aaron panicked. "Hey, s-stay awake, Spencer," he huffed breathlessly. The pain filled brown eyes opened again and Aaron sighed in relief.

"Jus' so c-cold, so tired," Spencer slurred in a soft quiet voice.

Aaron looked at the ambulance as it stopped near their wrecked car. "Help's here now, hang on," he reassured the young man equally as softly.

The paramedics ran over to where the two FBI agents were and started to assess their situation, and before long, another ambulance, a helicopter, police cars and a fire engine were also at the scene.

SSA Dave Rossi arrived shortly after the helicopter and immediately rallied around and helped the EMT's secure Aaron onto a gurney in the aircraft and hooked up to an IV and oxygen mask. A preliminary examination revealed that the Unit Chief had broken ribs and a suspected punctured lung, head trauma and cuts and bruises to his legs. He needed urgent medical attention but was refusing to leave Spencer.

"Aaron, Spencer is in the best hands," Rossi tried to explain again, but Aaron wasn't listening. He was confused and his friend wasn't making any sense. He had to pick up the Chinese; Spencer would be starving by now!

"No, Dave, h-have to see Spencer, he's hungry," Aaron mumbled into the mask. "Did he tell you what he wants?"

Dave frowned. "No, he didn't," he said as he looked at the paramedic with concern. They had to get the man to hospital.

"H-have to ask him." An alarm sounded as Aaron's eyes rolled back into his head.

"Aaron?"

"He's in respiratory distress, we have to go, now!" the EMT said quickly and Rossi nodded and backed out of the helicopter watching his friend have a tube inserted into his throat. The doors closed and with its blades at full whir, the air-ambulance flew off into the night. Headlamps suddenly caught his attention and SSA's Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss came running towards him.

"Rossi!" Derek shouted, motioning to the sky. "Was that-?"

"That was Hotch," Rossi nodded. "He's alive, but in a bad way."

"Garcia said they're being taken to Mary Washington," Emily told them.

Rossi nodded as he led the way to where Spencer was, still trapped in the mangled SUV. Emily blinked at the covered body of the truck driver being loaded into one of the ambulances.

"Oh my god! Reid! What the hell happened, Rossi?" Morgan gasped when he finally saw his young friend.

"The truck hit them," Rossi said, eyes never leaving the scene before them. Paramedics rushed about in the aim of keeping the young man alive as the emergency workers tried to cut him out of the wreckage.

But it was the blood that drew the attention of agents watching. So much blood.

"It's a miracle he survived," Emily whispered, tears in her eyes.

A sudden pain-filled cry echoed over the noise. Morgan stepped forward only to be held back by Rossi.

"Let them work, Derek," he said and Morgan gritted his teeth, but he stood back. Rossi made his way over to the police to find out whatever he could about what exactly happened. So far, all they could ascertain was that they were hit by a drunk-driver. He left his details with them and made his way back to his fellow agents.

EMT's rushed over with a gurney just as another helicopter sounder over head, the wind effects from the blades causing an updraft of debris. Grit irritated Emily's eyes and she blinked furiously.

"Okay, let's lift him – carefully – and get him to the chopper," one if the paramedics on site yelled over the din.

Another strangled cry emanated from the chaos as Spencer was pulled slowly from the SUV.

"At least he's awake," Emily said, biting anxiously at her lip. Awake meant he was still alive.

Rossi looked at Morgan and could see the anxiety and worry clawing at the man. He placed his hand on the shaking arm. "Derek-"

"Someone should be with him," Morgan clipped as they heard his friend cry out again.

"The EMTs are there, he's in the best hands," Rossi tried to placate, although if truth be known, he was just as anxious to get to Spencer as Morgan.

"A-Aaron," came Spencer's panicked voice and Morgan growled and darted towards him.

"Sir-" an EMT started as Morgan cut him off.

"SSA Derek Morgan," he said as he helped them lift the gurney.

"M-Morgan?" Spencer gasped into his oxygen mask.

"I'm here, kid."

"Aaron... Where's Aaron?" The portable monitor alarm sounded as Spencer's heart started to race.

"Hey, he's fine, Reid," Morgan reassured him quickly and smiled as the alarms settled again. "You'll be joining him later over a delicious meal of hospital food."

They climbed into the helicopter as Spencer chuckled breathily. He suddenly gripped Morgan's hand as the agent tried to step down.

"No, please," Spencer said, his pain filled eyes pleading. "S-stay... scared."

Morgan glanced at the EMTs and with a quick nod, he climbed back in.

"Keep him calm," they told him quietly and Morgan nodded.

Rossi saw Morgan climb back aboard the helicopter and turned to Emily. "I hope you have keys to the car," he said as they watched the helicopter lift off. Emily blinked and nodded.

They quickly requested that the police let them know if any new information came to light before making their way to the hospital in Fredericksburg.

Rossi 'phoned Garcia with an update on the situation, and she informed him that both her and SSA 'JJ' Jareau would meet them at the hospital.

~{}~

The helicopter journey, although not long at all, seemed to take forever. Morgan tried his best to keep Spencer calm, but the trauma to his body proved too much, and half way to Mary Washington hospital the young man's heart faltered.

"Jesus, kid," he breathed in alarm, and then moved so the people on board could intubate Spencer and start life saving medical procedures.

The EMTs worked fast and efficiently and they stabilised him again, much to Morgan's absolute relief.

It was a matter of minutes between landing at the hospital and hurrying the young FBI agent into the ER, and it left Morgan's head spinning.

Rossi found him staring at the closed doors to the trauma unit where he wasn't permitted.

"His heart stopped on the way here," Morgan said quietly. Rossi frowned and swallowed at that news. "They got him back, but... He's..."

"He's a tough kid," the older agent said trying to put conviction into his words. "He'll make it."

Closing his eyes, Morgan turned and blew out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Any news on Hotch?"

"Not yet," Rossi shook his head. "He's still in surgery."

Silence took over as the two agents walked to the waiting area where Emily had coffee for them. The silence was soon interrupted a moment later when Garcia and Agent Jareau came hurrying towards them

"Any news?" Garcia asked, her normal bubbly personality now over shadowed by fear and concern.

"Hotch is still in surgery, Reid is in there," Morgan said and pointed to the trauma unit.

Garcia covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes filling. Morgan stood and enveloped her in a hug. "It'll be okay, baby girl," he murmured. "You'll see. They'll be fine." He so wanted to believe that himself.

"What happened?" JJ asked, her pretty features etched with worry.

Rossi blew out a long breath. "Drunk driver hit them."

The trauma unit doors opened then and Spencer Reid was wheeled out and his bandaged broken body whisked off to surgery. A nurse stayed behind and addressed the anxious group of federal agents.

"We managed to stabilise Doctor Reid," the nurse said to a chorus of relieved sighs. "He's still very sick. We're taking him to surgery to repair internal damage caused by the metallic bar through his side."

"Metal bar through his side?" JJ gasped. The image of that made her feel sick. Emily grabbed her hand and the nurse continued.

"Until the surgery we won't know the full extent of his injuries, but we've started him on a wide spectrum of antibiotics. He'll be on a lot pain medication for a dislocated hip and a nasty concussion, but it's the internal damage that we're concerned about at the moment." She smiled sympathetically. "Doctor Reid is in the best hands. I'll come and tell you more news as I learn it."

The agents all nodded, and then Emily asked, "Could you tell us any news on SSA Aaron Hotchner?"

"Of course," the nurse said and hurried off. She returned less than a minute later. "Agent Hotchner is in recovery, a member of staff is coming to talk with you."

"Thank you," Rossi said. The nurse nodded and hurried off to the surgery unit where Agent Reid was.

"This is a nightmare," Garcia said as she sat next to Morgan.

Morgan sipped his coffee and pulled a face. "God, even Reid wouldn't touch this stuff," he murmured about the bad hospital coffee and Spencer Reid's addiction to the beverage.

JJ and Emily blinked and both placed their Styrofoam cup on the floor. Rossi just shrugged and gulped his down... He'd tasted worse.

The recovery nurse approached them at that moment and the team rose to meet him.

"Agent Aaron Hotchner?" he enquired, the team all nodded. "He's comfortable and the surgery went very well. We removed splinters of bone from his right lung and repaired his broken ribs. He suffered a severe concussion in the accident, but x-rays showed no fractures to his skull, however we'll be keeping him under observation for a while. He has a chest drain in situ, but that'll only be for a short while, and he is breathing on his own, which is excellent."

The team absorbed the good news. "Can we see him?" Rossi asked.

"In a little while when we have him settled in the ICU," the nurse nodded. "I'll have someone come for you then."

And the team was once again left to drink foul coffee and wait in the little waiting room.

~{}~

Bleeping machines, a sharp pain in his chest and an itching nose slowly made themselves known as Aaron came back to consciousness. He clumsily scratched at his nose, dislodging the nasal oxygen tubing there. A hand gently removed his fingers.

"Careful, you'll pull that off," a familiar voice said.

"Rossi?" Aaron croaked. He opened his eyes to see the rugged face of the agent scant inches away from his own and shut them again.

"Hey there, welcome back to the land of the living," Rossi smiled.

Still keeping his eyes closed, Aaron swallowed and licked at his dry lips. Ice suddenly nudged at his mouth and he opened to accept the cold treat with a sigh.

"Thanks," he murmured, sucking slowly, relishing the coolness in his abused and sore throat.

"You're welcome," Garcia said, her soft voice comforting.

"Spen..." Aaron whispered his voice raw. He swallowed and tried again. "Spencer?"

"He's still in surgery, Hotch," Morgan said. Aaron nodded and drifted off again.

"Well, that was short," Rossi blinked, but they were all pleased that the unit chief had regained consciousness even for a minute or two.

A vibrating sensation against his leg had Rossi reach for his cell phone and he apologised before leaving the small private curtained off area.

"SSA Rossi," he said as he flipped open the device.

"_Sir, this is Captain Sturrock, you asked to be updated on the incident this evening?" _

Rossi frowned. "You found something?"

"_According to the coroner's report, the driver of the truck that hit Agent Hotchner's vehicle wasn't drunk, he was already dead,"_ the captain reported.

"What?"

"_Examination revealed that he'd been shot at point blank range, execution style, and time of death was at least two hours before-"_

"Get me everything you have on this, Captain Sturrock," Rossi ordered quickly, "and send it to the BAU."

"_Yes, sir!"_

The phone shut off as he hurried back to where his team were. Morgan frowned at the serious look on the older agents face.

"Rossi?"

"It seems this wasn't a clear cut case of drunk driving," Rossi said, his voice tinged with anger. The team all waited expectantly for Rossi to elaborate. "The driver was already dead when he hit Hotch – bullet to the head!"

"Oh my god," Garcia swore softly. The connotation of this new information was frightening.

Rossi turned to JJ, "I have Quantico Police sending everything to the BAU," he said and looked at his watch. It was after twelve, Spencer should be out of surgery soon, if all goes well. He addressed the whole team, "No one goes anywhere alone. We can't rule out the fact that two of our people have been targeted at this time."

"Agreed," Morgan nodded, his mind automatically slipping into his role as acting unit chief. "Garcia, JJ, you go back to the BAU-"

"But-" Garcia started... They had yet to hear anything of Spencer.

"I'll personally update you about Reid, baby girl, I promise," Morgan said. Garcia pursed her lips.

"You better. As soon as you hear!" And both she and JJ hurried off.

"Rossi, Prentiss, go back to the scene, see if you can find out where the primary site is," Morgan frowned and looked over at Aaron. "What worries me is that if Hotch and Reid were the targets, we have an unsub that knows us or is watching us."

Emily blew out a breath. The knowledge that someone might be watching them unnerved her. She glanced about her and absently fingered her weapon.

"Be careful, guys," Morgan said. "I'm gonna get some 'uniforms' here and talk with the coroner, find out what else he found."

Rossi and Prentiss left then and Morgan turned back to Aaron. He put his warm palm on the cool skin of his unit chief and friend's arm. No words were said, just comfort offered to the sleeping man.

He left the ICU and called for additional security, making sure the ICU was secured. After a quick call to the coroner, Morgan then turned to leave the ward to meet him.

"Sorry," Morgan said quickly as he steadied the surgeon he'd just bumped into.

"No problem," the man in green scrubs smiled. "Are you one of the FBI agents?"

Morgan nodded quickly. "SSA Derek Morgan."

"Then, you'll be pleased to hear that," he checked his clipboard, "Supervisory Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid came through his surgery well and is resting comfortably in recovery," the surgeon said. "He's a very lucky man. The metal rod missed most of his major organs and we successfully repaired what it didn't miss."

"That's great news, doc," Morgan breathed in relief.

"Of course Doctor Reid will be very sore and on pain medication for a while and we'll be keeping him under sedation for the next twelve hours or so, but I'm confident he'll recover from his injuries fully."

Morgan shook the man's hand. "Thanks doc," he grinned. "Can I see him?"

"When Doctor Reid is comfortable in the ICU, Agent Morgan," the surgeon requested. Morgan nodded.

"Okay. Well, thanks for letting me know, and thanks for everything."

They parted ways and Morgan grabbed his cell and punched in Garcia's number. "Hey, Garcia," he smiled.

"_Morgan! How's Reid?"_

"He's gonna be okay, baby girl," he said and held the phone away from his ear as she loudly told JJ.

"_Are you sure?"_

"The doc says he'll be sore for a while, but he'll make a full recovery. I promise," Morgan told her. Changing the subject slightly, he asked, "Did you find anything yet?"

"_Oh, the truck belongs to one Gerald Macclesfield... Reported stolen two days ago from his place of work at ...Daniel's Auto Care,"_ she reported.

"Okay, send the address to Rossi and Prentiss. Good work!"

"_Thank you, sugar."_ And she hung up leaving Morgan to go and see the coroner.

~{}~

Just after five am, the team gathered in the conference room to collate their findings. They were tired and concerned and more than a little worried.

"Macclesfield's truck was stolen from Daniel's Auto Care, but the CCTV system there picked up nothing. No one saw anything either," Prentiss said disappointed. A frustrated hum filled the room.

"What we do know is that the victim and truck yielded a number of prints, all of which are currently being checked by AFIS," Rossi put in.

JJ stuck a photograph of the victim on the board. The image made the group grimace at the damage to the flesh on his face. "This is Gregory Call, married, father of three, no connection to the bureau at all... Looks like a random murder, shot execution style."

Morgan averted his eyes from the graphic photograph and blew out a breath. "Damn. Any connection with Macclesfield?"

JJ shook her head. "None that we could find, no."

"So, the unsub just picked him out? Guy was in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Prentiss said, her face radiating anger.

"Looks that way," JJ answered.

"No one reported him missing?" Morgan asked.

"No, Mrs Call said he was working and wasn't due back until 7am."

A moment of silence filled the room as they all felt remorse for the widow and her children.

Garcia walked in with Kevin at her heals. She looked sheepishly at the team and motioned to her shadow. "Sorry guys, but he won't leave me alone," she mumbled rolling her eyes.

Rossi chuckled. "That's a good thing, Garcia."

"Hm, yeah... Okay, so this guy, Gregory Call?" she said, all business. "He used Daniel's Auto Care to service his car. It's still in the garage there."

"And?" Morgan pressed.

"And, so did Andrea Potter," she said.

"Carl Potter's mother?" Prentiss said, referring to their last case. Garcia nodded.

"But that's inconclusive, Garcia," Rossi said. "Still doesn't mean-"

"I know, but we just got a hit from AFIS... A number of prints belong to one Angelo Carlotti, Carl Potter's last known step father."

Rossi's eyes widened. That changed everything.

"Wait a minute; you couldn't find any of Potter's parents..." JJ said, frowning.

"Is Carlotti a construction worker?" Rossi asked, his mind in over drive. Garcia nodded. "So, seems we may have been spot on with the profile in that last case."

Morgan grabbed the coroner's report and quickly leafed through it. "Oh my god, Call's left ear is missing."

Quickly, the team reopened the Potter case and provided a more detailed profile of the suspect, Angelo Carlotti. JJ held an emergency press conference, and the BAU and FBI and state police were out in full force to capture the serial killer.

The BAU had been very close with their profile of Carlotti, the only thing they missed was the possibility of a partner. Of course now, they had to factor in that Carlotti was most likely on the path of revenge for his step son.

Three hours later, they hadn't found Carlotti, but they had found a fresh victim. She was a twenty year old waitress called Lisa Woods. Her ear was missing.

"No evidence of sexual assault," Morgan said. "He's changed his MO."

"He's devolving," Rossi nodded. Carlotti had a new agenda now and was more dangerous than ever.

~{}~

Agent Aaron Hotchner woke up abruptly. The vestiges of a bad dream lingering for a second, before he opened his eyes and realised where he was.

In hospital.

Memories of the crash quickly filled his mind – images of mangled metal, blood and Spencer impaled-

"Spencer?" he croaked, his dry throat grating. A nurse suddenly appeared in his line of vision.

"Hello, Agent Hotchner," she smiled softly. "It's good to have you back. How are you feeling?"

He felt her take his wrist. "Where's Agent Reid?" he asked ignoring her question.

She smiled again and stuck a thermometer in his ear. "He's in the next bed," she told him. "You're doing well, Agent Hotchner. Any pain?"

Aaron shook his head. Apart from the dull ache in his chest, he wasn't in too much pain.

"Well, just press this," a call button was placed in his fingers, "if you need anything, sir."

"Thanks. How is he?" Aaron asked motioning towards Spencer's bed with his eyes.

"He's resting comfortably," the nurse said reassuringly. "He'll be asleep for a while longer, which is a good idea for you too, sir."

Aaron frowned. The nurse hadn't really answered his question, but the cotton wool filling his head forced him to close his eyes and when he opened them again, the nurse had gone. He tentatively leaned over to look at his young friend.

Spencer was asleep, facing Aaron. Dark rings circled his eyes and a stark white bandage above his left eyebrow contrasted hideously against the bruise pale skin. A nasal oxygen tube hooked over his ears and IVs snaked into the back of his hands giving him blood and other solutions that Aaron couldn't quite see. He could see the top of a brace that the sheet covering Spencer's lower body hadn't hidden, but Aaron's eyes were drawn to the bulky bandage at the young man's side.

Images flashed through his mind and he was transported back to the crash and Spencer trapped in the car, the metal rod pinning him to the broken seat... and blood, so much blood...

The nurse took the call button from Aaron's tight grasp and helped him lay back. "Agent Hotchner?" she called but Aaron could only gasp. "Breathe slowly, sir... That's it."

A mask covered his face and Aaron gulped in the rich air. The lights that were flashing behind his eyes slowed and eventually his lungs stopped screaming.

"Slow breaths, sir, easy slow breaths," the nurse instructed.

"'m alright," Aaron mumbled; his eyes feeling heavy, his tongue suddenly too big for his mouth. He strained to listen but could only catch the words ...panic attack... before darkness claimed him again.

~{}~

Carlotti looked around and saw his opening. The side street was dark and despite what was said on the TV, the FBI and police, in Carlotti's opinion, hadn't placed nearly enough security around the hospital.

When the killer had heard that the two men that killed his boy were still alive, thanks to the pretty FBI agent in her statement, he had seen red.

It tore him apart when he learned that his Carl, his beautiful Carl, had been killed... The boy was his whole world, and he_ loved_ him... And the thought of never being able to touch him again, never being able to feel the youth's warm flesh, his soft silky skin... He would have done, and did do _everything_ for him. Each and every one of those _whores _deserved it...

Rage... Blind hatred and utter rage consumed Carlotti and he'd immediately brutally murdered the first young woman he'd seen, dumping her body in a dumpster without a care that the authorities would find her quickly.

Then he made his way to the hospital in Fredericksburg, where newspaper reporters had picked up on the FBI incident. God, he loved eager and nosy reporters! He saw the crowd at the side of the main doors talking into Camera's and smirked. All attention was on them at the moment.

Carlotti stealthily made his way to the side street and watched as two of the BAU team entered the hospital. It was the old guy and the brunette; Agent Prentiss. He liked the look of her. Liked her small ears with her silky dark hair tucked behind them...

Palming his awakening erection at the thought of masturbating over Prentiss's ears, maybe even screwing her – hard – as he licked the pierced lobes... Carlotti shook in his own excitement before climbing the ladders to the next ledge up, where he slipped inside the building through a carelessly left open washroom window.

~{}~

Prentiss and Rossi met with the doctor taking care of their fellow agents and asked for updates on their conditions, before quietly entering the private room.

Both men were resting, although Spencer seemed to be frowning and his breathing shortening every so often. Rossi went to him. "Reid?"

"Spencer?" Aaron's soft voice sounded.

Prentiss immediately went to her boss. "it's okay, Hotch. Reid's a little restless is all."

Aaron opened his eyes. "He okay?"

Looking over at Rossi trying to sooth the younger man, Prentiss nodded. "Yeah. Rossi is with him, he'll be okay."

Rossi smiled at Aaron and turned back to the man in the other bed. "Reid?"

Pain. Dull, unforgiving, unrelenting pain... And dizziness and nausea greeted him as Spencer finally came to. He gasped out a tight moan before his stomach tightened and cramped and he was sick – bloody tinged saliva and bile discolouring his pristine white pillow.

"Ah, kid, hang on," Rossi jumped and grabbed an emesis bowl and shoved it under Spencer's mouth as he held the back of his head steady. Prentiss pressed the call button, wincing when Spencer retched again and his heart monitor alarm sounded.

"Spencer?" Aaron called, horrified at the noises coming from the other side of the small room. "Emily, wh-what's goin' on? Is he alright? Spencer!"

A nurse and a doctor ran into the room and quickly took over, leaving Prentiss and Rossi with Aaron. They watched in silence as Spencer was cleaned up and more drugs were fed into his IV. Quiet murmurings filled the air as the doctor talked with the young man and eventually Spencer nodded and a nurse helped him get comfortable and smiled.

"He's had a slight reaction to one of the sedatives, but he'll be alright now," the doctor said to Rossi who was waiting by Spencer's bed. "I've given him more pain medication, but he'll be a little more alert now."

"Thanks doc. Can I ask what you're giving him?" Rossi asked, knowing about young agent's addiction to Diluadid and aversion to taking any kind of narcotic now – legal or illegal.

The doctor nodded and looked at Rossi seriously. "We know of Agent Reid's request for non-use of narcotic drugs, which doesn't leave us much. We're reluctant to withhold the use of morphine as his injuries are very painful, but Tramadol and Neurocet are what we're using at the moment."

Rossi frowned and looked at Spencer. "Thank you."

The doctor followed the nurse out of the room, leaving them alone again. Prentiss went to Spencer's side.

"Hey Reid," she said as the young man squinted up at her.

"Hi," he croaked.

Aaron watched as Prentiss moved a lock of hair from Spencer's eyes. "Spencer?" he called. "How're doin'?"

Spencer blinked and slowly looked over at his roommate. "I've been better, actually. You okay? What happened?"

"We were hit," Aaron said. Spencer blinked in confusion at Aaron.

Rossi chimed in. "A truck hit your SUV. You're lucky to be alive, kiddo," he filled in, deliberately omitting what they had found out since.

The profiler in Aaron saw it though. "What aren't you saying, Dave?" he asked.

Rossi looked at both Aaron and Spencer frowned. "Carl Potter."

"W-what about him?" asked Spencer, the bloody memory of the teenager's brains exploding all over him still fresh in his mind.

"The truck that hit you was stolen by Angelo Carlotti-"

"Carl's step-father," Spencer put in, remembering what Garcia had said after they'd returned to the BAU. Rossi nodded.

"Seems we weren't as far off the profile as we thought. Carlotti is the serial, Carl was just his partner, though I doubt the kid ever killed anyone," Rossi informed them.

"Yet," Aaron said thinking of the string of mutilated ears that were around Carl Potter's neck.

"Well, we'll never know now," Spencer sighed sadly. The kid never had a chance. Abused and manipulated all his life... He never had a chance.

Aaron pulled himself up the bed, wincing as he felt his chest twinge at the site where the drainage tube had been removed earlier.

"Sir, should you-" Prentiss started only to be cut off by one of Agent Hotchner's glares.

"I'm fine. Dave," he directed at the older agent. "Was Carlotti the driver?"

"No. The driver was a man called Gregory Call. No direct links with Potter or Carlotti other than he used the same garage," Rossi said. He looked at Aaron. "He was already dead when the truck hit you. His left ear was missing too."

Aaron's eyes narrowed as he connected the dots in his head. Then Rossi added when Aaron nodded in understanding, "He's killed again."

"What?" Spencer gasped. He sucked in a painful breath.

"Hey, take it easy kid," Rossi rebuked kindly, concerned for the young man. "Yeah, a young woman in the early hours this morning. No sexual assault this time, just the missing ear."

"He's devolving," Spencer murmured. Rossi nodded. That's what he'd said earlier.

"We think this is a case of revenge," Prentiss said. Aaron frowned. "Carlotti must have been watching you to time the collision so precisely."

"But why not wait to see if we were dead?" Aaron asked. That didn't make sense.

"Maybe the death of his step son caused a psychotic break and Carlotti snapped and ran?" Spencer mused. It seemed a little vague, but whatever the reason, he was glad.

"Maybe," Rossi nodded. "We have an APB out on Andrea Potter too."

"Good call," Aaron said. He sat up and started to remove the wires attached to his chest.

"Hotch! What do you think you're doing?" Rossi asked. Spencer blinked and stared at Aaron in confusion.

"I'm leaving. I'll be more use at the BAU," Aaron mumbled as he pulled out his IV with a hiss.

"You've just undergone surgery to remove bone splinters from your lungs," Rossi reminded him. "You need to get back in bed and recover properly! Emily, call the doc!"

"Dave, I need to be out there," Aaron argued with the older man. Rossi sighed and stopped Aaron from trying to stand, which was just as well as the room span and Aaron swayed and lurched to the side, all the colour leeching from his face.

"Whoa, take it easy Aaron. Here, lay back," Rossi instructed and helped the man back into bed. The doctor came in then and frowned at his patient.

"Agent Hotchner, you're still recovering from surgery and a severe concussion," he admonished. "You can't be getting up and gallivanting about yet! Nurse, re-site that IV please."

Aaron lay silently while he was hooked back up to the IV and the monitors. He sighed. He needed to be out there helping to look for Carlotti.

"Would you like anything for pain?" the nurse asked him quietly. Aaron shook his head, and the medical staff left.

Rossi looked at him sympathetically. "I know you want to be out there, but we need you right here... recovering quickly so we can get you back to work as soon as possible."

Aaron sighed again. "Where's Morgan?"

"Coordinating the security around the hospital," Prentiss answered. Spencer's eyes widened as his mind processed what was being said. Prentiss offered an apology as her phone rang and she turned her back to answer it.

"We think he'll try again," Rossi said very seriously.

Aaron's face hardened as the situation became clear. "I need my gun," he said. He needed to be armed... He needed to protect Spencer. Rossi nodded and reached into the back of his pants.

"I thought you might," he said as he handed Aaron his Glock. Aaron nodded his thanks, grateful of the man's understanding.

"You got mine, too?" Spencer's slightly slurred question drifted towards them. Rossi looked at the wide pupils and almost dreamy expression, courtesy of the Tramadol and Neurocet, and shook his head.

"Sorry, kid," he apologised. Spencer blinked and then frowned hard at the IV bags. "Don't worry, they have you on non-narcotic's, but they still apparently pack a powerful punch."

"That was Morgan," Prentiss said as she pocketed her cell. "He has the hospital staked out. Still no sign of Carlotti."

Even with the dampening effects of the drugs he was on, Spencer's mind still raced. "You're using us as bait?" he suddenly realised.

Aaron looked at the young agent. "He's already tried to kill us once, Spencer. He'll try again. As you've already said, he's devolving and he'll be focussed on his primary goal now."

"Us," Spencer said. Aaron nodded.

"I'm sorry, kid, but he's coming. We just have to be ready." Rossi cocked his gun and placed it in his holder.

~{}~

The lockers were easy to pick and Carlotti quickly changed from his dirty jeans and lumberjack shirt into a set of hospital scrubs. He looked at himself in the mirror and sneered; hate green, he thought as he pulled on the insipid coloured cap and tucked in his grubby hair. Still, with any luck he'd be a passable member of staff, and that's all he needed. Then he could get close to the two agents that killed his boy and finish the job.

Finding Hotchner and Reid wasn't difficult; the pretty young nurse all too easily gave him the information before he squeezed the life from her delicate neck. Dumping her body in a laundry cart and covering it with a sheet, he stole her black framed glasses, and then wheeled the cart into a storage closet and made his way to the private ICU rooms on the second floor.

He found a white doctor's coat and put that on too, and after grabbing a clip board to complete his disguise, _'Doctor'_ Carlotti plastered on a cocky grin, put the glasses on, and walked past the uniformed police men securing the doors of the ICU, stepping into a small empty treatment room to find a decent blade.

Picking up a small suture kit, Carlotti growled and threw it back down. Not good enough, he thought, and started to rifle through the instrument drawers. He grinned when he saw the collection of surgical knives and grabbed the biggest.

Now, he was going to avenge his beautiful boy's murder.

~{}~

"Aaron?" Spencer said tentatively. Aaron, absently probing the tender flesh and small row of butterfly stitches above his eye, turned to his young friend. Both Prentiss and Rossi had stepped out for the moment to check on the security.

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking," Spencer mused, his brow creased under the white bandage covering most of his forehead. "Carl Potter. What made him do what he did... He never had a chance..."

"Spencer, don't over think this," Aaron said. "Our profile of the unsub was accurate, but sometimes, it's not all black and white."

"Did you know that statistics shows over 75% of serial rapists were abused as children? 26% of serial killers start out in their teens? Carl had a good teacher," Spencer laughed humourlessly.

"Spencer-"

"I read some of Carl's journal at the BAU," Spencer continued oblivious to Aaron's voice. "By the time Carlotti came into his life, he'd already accepted his path. His words were ...cold, dead... It was like reading a, a..." He paused. "Did you know he still wet the bed at the age of fourteen?"

"No," Aaron said softly. Sometimes he forgot how young Spencer was himself. This case had really got to the agent.

"Yeah," Spencer carried on just as softly. "He wrote that his mom would 'punish' him every time he wet, and his stepfather at the time would watch." He looked down at his hands and fiddled with the IV tube there.

A warm hand covered his fingers and stilled them. Spencer looked up to see Aaron sitting gingerly on the side of his bed, carefully as to not hurt the young man.

"I know we can't stop the inevitable, but..." Spencer whispered sadly. "Sometimes I just wish..."

"I know, me too," Aaron said quietly and placed his palm against Spencer's cheek.

"What if Carlotti-"

"Hey! Don't even think that. We'll get him before he tries anything," Aaron said firmly.

"I feel naked without my gun," Spencer frowned, and then looked at the man sat on his bed in the backless hospital gown and grinned. "Well, not as naked as you, anyway."

Aaron's eyes widened and a slow blush crept across his cheeks. "Yes, well, my ass hanging out wasn't foremost on my mind when I sat here," he chuckled. "Don't worry, Spencer, I'll not let anything happen to you."

Aaron's eyes scanned Spencer's bruised torso and the thick bandage hiding the site where he was speared through. He gently lifted the sheet to expose the hip brace and winced.

"Don't," Spencer whispered.

"Sorry." Aaron replaced the sheet and carefully stood up. "I didn't know how badly you were hurt. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," the young man blushed. "It's just... I'm kinda naked under here."

Aaron winked and flashed his bare buttock at Spencer. "Naked under here too," he grinned, pleased he'd gotten a smile out of Spencer.

Aaron was pulling up his covers when Rossi came back in the room with coffee. Spencer's nose twitched.

"Ah, Rossi?"

"I'm afraid not, kid," he said feeling sorry for the self confessed coffee addict.

"Now that's just cruel," Spencer mumbled with a pout. Rossi shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Any news?" Aaron asked.

Rossi's face hardened as he nodded. "A nurse has gone missing."

Aaron blew out a harsh breath. The bastard had probably killed again. "Pass me my pants," he said to Rossi swinging his legs carefully off the bed.

"Hotch, we've just done this," Rossi frowned. "Get back into bed!"

Aaron looked hard at Rossi, a hint of desperation in his eyes. Rossi sighed and handed the agent his pants.

In the adjacent bed, Spencer watched silently as Aaron, after refusing any help from Rossi, struggled to pull up the suit pants over his bandaged legs using one hand with the other arm protecting his ribs. He blinked as the situation dawned on him.

"Aaron?"

"It's okay, Spencer," Aaron nodded. "It'll be okay."

The young agent looked at Rossi who offered a reassuring smile. "So, he's here?" Spencer asked quietly.

"There's a good chance, kid," Rossi answered. He turned to Aaron, who was finally half decent and sitting on the edge of his bed clutching his chest and carefully trying not to show how much pain he was in, and frowned hard. "You know, you're a stubborn son-of-a-bitch. I'm gonna find you the doc, Hotch. Hang on," he said ignoring the agent's breathless protests and quickly left.

~{}~

With the treatment room door a tiny bit open, Carlotti watched the older agent leave the private ICU room. He grinned to himself. He was so close now! Tucking the sharp scalpel under his clipboard, he straightened up, opened the door and headed out to exact his revenge.

~{}~

"Aaron, are you okay?" Spencer asked concerned at the pale pallor of the older man's face. Aaron nodded and closed his eyes.

"Yeah, jus' gimme a minute," Aaron murmured. His chest hurt like hell and those damned annoying bright lights had started to flash behind his eyes again. He drew in a cautious breath and blew it out slowly. His fingers tightened around the cool metal of his Glock as a sudden feeling of dread made his heart thump against his ribs.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asked half sitting up when he saw Aaron glance towards the door and grip his gun. The next moment he was staring into the wild and evil eyes of Carlotti himself.

The suspect had opened the door and flung the scalpel at Aaron so fast that the FBI agent, already hampered with busted ribs and pain induced vision issues, flinched and jerked away with a strangled yelp dropping his gun on the floor as the sharp blade impaled itself into the fleshy part of Aaron's shoulder.

Carlotti yanked the knife from his victim and swung his fist into Aaron's face, knocking him for six and he lay stunned on the floor.

"Spen-" A swift kick to his abdomen shut Aaron up. Spencer cried out for him to stop kicking the downed agent which earned the young man a hard right cross to the jaw.

"Shut the fuck up!" Carlotti hissed, his foul breath making Spencer gag. He thrust the bloody scalpel at the young man and growled, "You bastards killed my beautiful boy."

"Um, a-actually we didn't," Spencer stuttered, his eyes on the knife. "He ah, killed himself."

Carlotti's face twisted and he grabbed Spencer's bandaged side and squeezed. Spencer threw his head back and screamed as he felt his stitches tear. Carlotti jumped over his bed and pulled the incapacitated man into a headlock, the knife cutting cruelly into his neck.

"Stay back or I'll kill him!" Spencer heard his captor shout. He opened pain filled eyes to see Rossi, Prentiss and Morgan in the room, all with their guns pointed right at him.

~{}~

Rossi, Prentiss and Morgan were just down the corridor waiting for Aaron's doctor and talking with the police about the missing nurse when they heard Spencer's shout. Their blood ran cold as his desperate plea to stop hurting Aaron stopped time in its tracks.

Carlotti had got to Aaron and Spencer.

At a dead run, shouting out for back up on the way, the three agents barrelled into the room, weapons poised.

"Stay back or I'll kill him!" Carlotti shouted. The team scanned the scene quickly and assessed the situation.

Aaron was unconscious on the floor, blood pooling at his shoulder, but he was breathing. As for Spencer... the bandage at his side was soaked with blood, a new bruise was blossoming on his jaw, and his glassy expression and blue tinge to his lips meant the hold Carlotti had on him was slowly cutting off his oxygen.

The knife at Spencer's pale throat cut deeper and the young man screwed his eyes shut when he felt the hold tighten even more.

"You know you have nowhere to go," Prentiss said, her gun never wavering. "Put down the knife."

"It's over, Carlotti," Morgan added trying to be as calm as he could. "Let Agent Reid go."

The suspect's lip curled and the team knew at once that Angelo Carlotti was not going to let go. He was going to commit suicide by cop and take Spencer with him.

All it took was a second. One second, and Angelo Carlotti was dead. Rossi stood with his gun, finger still depressed on the trigger, and blinked. He didn't think, he just knew he had to kill the man, there was no time. Spencer Reid's life was at stake. One second for the bullet to leave his gun and hit Carlotti between the eyes...

Morgan ran towards Carlotti and Spencer as the suspect lurched backwards with the impact of the bullet. He was just in time to stop the shocked and dazed young agent falling from the bed. Rossi quickly holstered his weapon and knelt down next to Aaron and Prentiss secured the knife and checked Carlotti.

"He's dead," she said over the noise filling the room and corridor. Police and medical staff were running about, shouting orders and trying to assess the situation.

Morgan carefully laid his charge back onto the bed and leaned over him. "Reid? Come on, kid, it's over," he said. Spencer, although his eyes open, wasn't hearing anything.

"Reid! Come on, stay with me here. Garcia will have my ass if I let anything happen to her Junior G-Man!" he tried again. The nickname registered and Spencer blinked. "That's it, come on kid."

White noise suddenly hissed in his ears and Spencer gulped in a lungful of air. He coughed harshly.

"Welcome back, Reid," Morgan smiled in relief, and then let the doctors take over.

Aaron had been lifted back onto his bed at the same time as Carlotti's corpse had been wheeled away. Prentiss followed the gurney, after making sure that her fellow team mates were okay, to report what had happened.

~{}~

Three hours later, the team, including Garcia and JJ, were all sitting around two beds in a private room on the third floor of Mary Washington hospital, Fredericksburg.

Both Aaron and Spencer were confined to their beds – under threat of really bad hospital food and no coffee for a month, as so ordered by their team mates.

It was close... Both FBI agents had sustained new injuries and had to be treated for shock, but Carlotti hadn't won. They were alive, and that was a _very_ good outcome.

After their ordeal, Aaron had a new set of stitches on his shoulder, but x-rays showed no further damage to his broken ribs, and Spencer had to have his stomach wounds re-stitched.

"So, the obsession with ears," Morgan said, a hint of revulsion in his voice. "Definitely sexual, but didn't start out that way. Carlotti's left ear was missing... a birth defect."

"He was a deranged psychopath with an ear fetish," Rossi added. "But what was his stressor? Not the ear thing..."

"Hang on," Garcia said and pulled out her laptop. "I think I can help you there."

Aaron cocked his head as the technical analyst put the portable computer on the end of his bed.

"Andrea Potter," she said. "A body was found under the Potter's house. It was wrapped in plastic and badly mutilated," she swallowed and shuddered, "but preliminary evidence indicates that it's her. I'm waiting on the DNA results for confirmation."

"How long has she been dead?" Prentiss asked.

JJ leaned forward and looked at the picture on Garcia's screen and pulled a face. "Looks like a good while," she murmured.

"Four months, give or take."

"That was around the time we found the first victim," Spencer offered. He remembered that well. Young blonde woman named Rachel Hollings. She was twenty four - not much younger than he was.

"I have a police report dated a month before she was killed that states Andrea Potter accused Carlotti of indecent behaviour towards her son," Garcia frowned.

"That's rich," Morgan scoffed knowing of the sordid history between Andrea herself and her son.

Garcia continued. "Around the same time, there were complaints from neighbours about loud disturbances from the Potter's house. The police never investigated," she finished.

"Sounds like their marriage was over," Rossi said, and then quoted, "_'Until death do us part'_."

"Literally," Garcia breathed in disgust.

"The accusation was the stressor. He called Carl 'his beautiful boy'," Spencer said.

"So when Carl was killed, the one thing Carlotti lived for had been taken away from him," Aaron added. Spencer nodded.

They all sat and mulled over all the facts of the case, taking into account their information they had compiled before too.

"Why do you think Carlotti chose the art student?" JJ asked, remembering the morning before when Aaron and Spencer had gone to talk to Carl – her class mate. "If he _loved_ Carl that much, then why destroy something close to him?"

"'_From the deepest desires often come the deadliest hate__'_," Rossi quoted. Spencer nodded his head.

"Socrates," he murmured. The quote was apt; jealousy was a dangerous and deadly thing.

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. "You know, we're all thinking that Carl was the subordinate here," he put forward. "But maybe, if Carlotti was as obsessed with him as we're saying, Carl was the master to the puppet."

"That's one theory, Morgan," Aaron nodded. He could see the frown on Spencer's face in his peripheral vision and pursed his lips. It was time to wrap this investigation up. "Whatever their relationship, Carl Potter and Angelo Carlotti are dead. It'll be filed that Carlotti was the unsub with Potter as his partner. We have no concrete evidence of anything to the contrary," Aaron shrugged. Morgan nodded. They could hash out cases for years if they wanted to... and they _didn't_ want to.

"The victims' families deserve to know the truth," Spencer said quietly.

"Yes they do," Rossi said. "And they will."

Spencer nodded and looked down at his hands. The truth. What was the truth?

The door to their room opened and a nurse walked in with a tray of medication and syringes. The team looked at her and then at the two men in the beds.

"Okay, looks like we've outstayed our welcome," Morgan said as he stood. The nurse smiled at him and set her tray down on Spencer's table.

"Okay, keep me updated," Aaron requested as one by one, the team wished them well and filed out of the room.

The nurse issued out the medication and did her observations, which each man tolerated silently. After making sure they comfortable and weren't in any pain she left them alone.

Aaron sighed as he looked up at the ceiling. He hated hospitals. "Are you okay?" he asked his companion.

Spencer shuffled in his bed until he was turned slightly towards the older man. He scratched absently at the new – smaller – dressing on his forehead. "Yeah, just, you know..."

"Bored?"

"Yeah," Spencer shrugged.

Aaron sighed again and looked over at Spencer. He saw the hip brace where the sheet had slipped. "How long do you have to wear that?" he asked, pointing.

Spencer looked down. "Um, not sure. A while I guess. I'm lucky it just dislocated and didn't break," he said referring to his hip. "What about you?"

"Me?" Aaron said, his brow rising.

"Yes, your ribs. I heard they removed bone fragments from your lungs?" Spencer asked worried for his friend.

"Yeah. Shattered rib. It's all fixed now," he assured Spencer with a smile.

A minute of silence filled the room until Spencer sighed loudly.

"God, I could so do with a coffee right now," he said wistfully. Aaron chuckled.

"Tell you what, kid, I'll buy you the biggest Starbuck's coffee the moment we're out of here," he promised. "How does that sound?"

"Like heaven!"

The door opened and the two agents watched as Morgan and Prentiss wheeled in a large television with a DVD player under it. Spencer's mouth dropped open as Prentiss put three Star Trek box sets on his table.

"Morgan?" Aaron blinked.

"Can't have you two being bored," Morgan grinned. He held up a Lord Of The Rings trilogy boxset and Aaron groaned.

"Oh, you didn't," he said.

"I did," Morgan laughed.

"Are they the extended versions?" Spencer asked, clearly pleased with their DVD choices.

"Yep, hours and hours and _hours_ of Tolkien fun!" Prentiss chuckled.

Aaron spied the science fiction boxsets. "Star Trek, too?" he complained. It was going to be torture!

"Aw come on, Hotch," Morgan encouraged. "It's classic viewing!"

Aaron sat open mouthed and speechless as the menu for The Lord Of The Rings graced the screen.

Morgan handed Spencer the remote with a wink. "Here you go kid, enjoy!"

"Thanks Morgan, Emily," he said and clicked play. The two FBI agents smiled at Spencer, who was sitting already engrossed in the tale about Hobbits, and at Aaron who smiled sincerely and gratefully mouthed 'thank you' at them.

Morgan nodded. He knew that Spencer would think their last case to death given the chance, so with the hospital's permission, he had organised the television for them.

The past few days had been a nightmare, but they were over now. The case had been closed; the bad guys had been caught. Healing was what both Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid needed to do now, and the team were going to make sure they healed in mind, body and soul.

That's what family was for.


End file.
